Desecration Smile
by gorekind
Summary: Crocodile and Doflamingo are something like antagonistic best friends, comfortable in their strange friendship. But Doflamingo never told him he had a brother; a pretty, interesting twin. The summer between Senior year and college is bound to be an eventful one. Weird pairing, not crack. Abuse fic. Gonna get pretty sad.
1. Down in The Low

i'd like to say thanks to my partner arion for betaing this fic and bouncing ideas off with me. a shout out also goes to pepper and gwen for helping me with even more ideas. you guys are the best.

but i'd also like to say that this fic is heavy on abuse and that i am also a victim of similar abuse. there's also slurs in this chapter, so don't read if that bothers you. please take care! i hope you like it.

* * *

Crocodile has to pick up the pieces of the night prior, scattered about his feet; both figuratively and literally. There's a smashed glass on the basement floor, wet with alcohol that sinks into his guts and makes him want to throw up. The liquor already in his system makes his skull feel tight around his brain. Throbbing in the worst way, he goes about cleaning up the mess and thinking about what happened.

Doflamingo had come over with a bottle of honey Jack, that much he remembers. The thought makes him nauseated, but it had tasted good at the time. Doflamingo is nowhere in the basement, of course; God knows where he's at.

He oozes and creaks up the basement steps once the mess is cleaned up. The clock above the kitchen sink reads noon, but the noises floating in from the dining room catch his attention.

When he shuffles into the room, he's nearly offended at the sight in front of him.

Doflamingo is having breakfast with his family.

Donquixote Doflamingo is having breakfast with his family and they all seem to be having a good time. They all turn to Crocodile once he enters, and Doflamingo promptly pulls out the chair next to him, huge grin spread across his face, as ever.

"Come sit next to your good pal Doffy." he pats it helpfully, met with laughter from the rest. His step sister, Vivi, is also sitting close by her boyfriend. Mom and Cobra are present, too. Gang's all there.

Crocodile practically pours himself into the chair, looking uneasily at the spread laid out on the table.

He takes some toast, finds that it doesn't seem very appetizing.

"You never told me your friend was so charming, Croc." Mom beams. Of course he's charming now. Most other times he's just weird and a bit … _much_ , but Crocodile hangs out with him anyway. Crocodile shrugs.

"You don't look so hot, man." Kohza says. Croc doesn't like Kohza.

"Drinking honey Jack on an empty stomach will do that to you, I guess." Croc mumbles. Everyone pulls faces at that, but Doflamingo laughs.

"How are you not hungover, anyway?" he snaps at the other. Doflamingo takes a sip of his orange juice and shrugs.

"I never get hungover, really."

"Fucker."

"Be nice." Mom chides.

"Its all right, he's just cranky. I got the perfect cure back home if you wanna get going that way soon."

Given the tone, Crocodile has some sort of idea of what the other is proposing, but its nothing he can talk about in front of his family. They all tolerate the occasional drinking in the basement ("As long as you're safe in our home, its okay"), though the pair never keeps it just in the basement. They'd be disappointed to see him engaging in any other substances.

But they take their leave anyway, after some deceivingly polite good byes from Doflamingo.

At the end of the cul-de-sac is where Doflamingo lives, biggest house in the area. Its nicer than Crocodile's own, certainly. And there's certainly some jealousy there, but its nothing he'd ever voice.

The house is empty when they enter, which is typically the case; the parents here are usually quite busy.

Crocodile's own family moved to the area a couple months prior, at the end of the school year, still settling into the quiet "howdy neighbor" sort of life they're pretty unaccustomed to. Moving from the city to the suburbs so late in Crocodile's senior year was counted as a strange move by everyone, but they closed the deal on the house and wanted to get in as quickly as possible.

Not like Crocodile really cares, much. His anticipation and hopes lie mostly in college, which he'll be going to once the summer is over.

Doflamingo and Crocodile both ended up in the same college a couple hours away, so they figured they might as well get tight.

Its an odd friendship, needless to say. Lots of pointless goading.

Once they're inside Doflamingo's bedroom, he takes out a tall orange pill bottle from his dresser drawer. Just as suspected. Shaking out a couple, he hands two to Crocodile; the pair swallows them dry.

"That'll make you feel better." Doflamingo pats Crocodile's shoulder and laughs when the other recoils at the touch.

"I hope so. I feel like fucking hot garbage or something."

"Look like it too."

"Fuck off."

They find themselves in the living room anyway, waiting on the couch for the high to hit. And when it does, its magnificent.

Crocodile forgot how good it is, that thick and languid feeling weighing down his limbs. The pressure in his head lifts. He's still not feeling one hundred percent, but he's much closer than he was before the pills. They sit on the couch sharing a comfortable quiescence in their lifted states.

The front door opens sometime around one forty five, at the peak of their highs.

In traipses someone Crocodile has never seen before, in quick and careless movements. They stop dead in their tracks when they see the stranger, and they look between them.

Crocodile immediately finds them striking, both on their own and in resemblance to Doflamingo. Where Doffy is square-jawed and Cheshire-grinned, this individual is softer, somehow, but a little more severe with their expression. They've got high cheekbones and blue eyes he can make out clearly from across the room. Androgynous, really.

Its not often that he thinks it about anyone, but they're really a pretty individual.

Shit. Maybe its how high he is, making him think something like this.

They start making motions with their hands, sign language. Good thing Crocodile can lip read somewhat. They seem to enunciate their words clearly enough.

" _Who's your friend?_ " they mouth.

"Crocodile. Long for Croco-man."

"Don't call me that." Crocodile mumbles, keeping his eyes on the other. They sign again, slowly, lips moving in tandem.

" _Its nice to meet you._ "

"Likewise, I'm sure." he responds. He's not sure if the pain killers are weighing down his tongue and his words, but it certainly feels that way, "What's your name?"

"Its Rocinante but everyone calls him Corazon around here. He's my baby brother." Doflamingo answers for him, snickers at some private joke.

" _Twin!_ " he signs, emphatically.

"Still younger." he tells him; asks, "How was young Smokey's?"

Crocodile can feel his eyes slipping closed of their own accord, head tipped back against the couch, but he keeps them open and on Corazon out of curiosity. He seems a little irritated, eyebrows knit together, regarding the pair on the couch with an appraising eye.

" _It was fine. Are you high?_ "

"What's it to you, you fuckin' narc?" Doflamingo snaps. Corazon averts his gaze, casts it downward. Worries at his lip, some, like he doesn't want to meet Doflamingo's challenge. The utterance had turned the corners of his lips down in a frown, but now the grin is back, presumably with Corazon's backing down.

He seems embarrassed. Crocodile just watches, not thinking very much of anything besides, sorry 'boutcha.

" _Can I go now?_ "

Crocodile finds it odd that Corazon has to ask for permission to leave at all, given that he entered the room himself. Its also odd, given their status at twins; what gave Doflamingo the authority - being a couple minutes older?

Doflamingo waves his hand in a flippant motion, "Be gone, shitstain."

His eyes linger a little on them both before he turns on his heel and leaves the room.

"You're a pretty mean older brother."

"No, I'm not. I care for him." Doflamingo says, sounding the most lucid he had since taking the pills, "But if I'm not hard on him, no one else around here will be. He's too soft."

Its been displayed to Crocodile, before; Doflamingo's perfectionist nature. He supposes there must be a bunch of pressure on the both of them alike, given the family's high status in the community. Father being mayor, and all.

He doesn't think about it deeply, and nor should he. He leaves the pieces of the puzzle there and lets his eyes slip closed. No skin off his back.

Sometime between bad reality television shows and two thirty, the pair dozes off.

* * *

Its probably the hottest day of the summer, but Crocodile thought that about the weather last week, too.

Despite the sun reaching its zenith, temperature climbing, Crocodile and Doflamingo make no motions to move from their lawn chairs. He finds that he can handle hot weather much better than cold, although they see both extremes in the heart of New York. Armed with water guns and a noxious combination of Kraken rum and green kool aid (the Donquixote family forgot to get coke, apparently), they bask in the rays.

"This tastes like shit." Crocodile remarks, makes a face. Its too strong, of course. Doflamingo aims his water gun at Crocodile's drink and sprays the cool water into the cup.

"There."

"Fuck off."

He takes a sip. Tastes even worse.

Doflamingo just laughs under his breath, continues, "You're coming to field days with me, right?"

"What's field days?"

"Its this shitty little carnival the town puts up at the start of summer, with those rides that can be taken down in a day. Pretty much everyone goes to get high and ride the Himalaya."

Crocodile squirts Doflamingo in the face with his own gun, contemplative. The other wipes at his face but doesn't retaliate. Not like he has anything better to do, really. And getting high and riding shitty rides seems pretty all right in the first place.

"Yeah, okay. When's it start?"

"Later tonight. There's fireworks and shit on the first night." Doflamingo shrugs, spraying a spot onto the front of Crocodile's jeans, "Bringing along Corazon, too."

Crocodile looks up in time to see Doflamingo wiggling his eyebrows over the rim of his sunglasses, impish smirk. He gets another spray in the face for the display.

"What's that for?" he asks.

"Maybe you'll find someone to hang out with or hook up with besides me."

Another spray, "Don't like my company?"

"Nah, you're an asshole."

"So are you, but you don't see me complaining."

"Shut the fuck up and drink your kool aid."

* * *

Set somewhere under the settling twilight, there's a couple streets absolutely filled with what Crocodile thinks is everyone who's ever lived in the town. There's vendors dragging carts with cheap light up toys, small stands selling fair food. There's lights strung up all around the trees and fixtures, almost like Christmas. It really feels summery, but a little small-town-cheap at the same time. _Truly_ magical.

The shitty rides are set in a field a ways off, and its there that most of the people their age congregate.

Crocodile knows his former classmates only briefly. Fortunately, he thinks; he didn't really like anyone and no one really stood out besides Doflamingo. There's some he recognizes, however, but can't quite put names to faces.

He's introduced to Mihawk and Kuma as 'Croco-man' ("Don't call me that."). Doflamingo talks enough for all five of them and then some, chattering away contentedly while Mihawk and Crocodile make comments here and there.

Corazon sits at the periphery of the group, fidgets with his hands, looks away from the imbibing teenagers. Crocodile feels almost bad about it but doesn't say a damn thing. He wonders if the other has any friends coming around. Doflamingo makes mention of them, sometimes, some guy named Smoker and a few others that he can't remember.

"Do you want some?" Mihawk asks Crocodile at some point, sounding almost bored. He offers a can of what appears to be an energy drink, which Crocodile then trades for his own bottle of cheap vodka and pepsi.

Crocodile almost starts laughing because of what's in the can.

"Is that fuckng _cognac_?"

"Absolutely."

They all trade drinks and talk amongst themselves before they head off to the rides, a little pep and sway in their collective step from all the alcohol. Mihawk and Kuma part ways from them to go find some people named Perona and Zoro, who Doflamingo insults, leaving it to be just the three again. Doflamingo in the middle, he slings an arm over their shoulders and leads them to the Himalaya.

"Wouldn't it be funny if you yakked on this ride, Croco-man? Don't think I didn't notice that face you pulled at the cognac, you puss."

" _That wouldn't be funny, that's mean._ " Corazon signs. He still seems a little reticent, looking everywhere but at Doflamingo. Its quite obvious, Crocodile finds. He wonders why that is.

"No one asked you, _maricon_." he sneers.

That shuts Corazon up, whatever it means. Crocodile frowns at the display; Doflamingo really is a dick and a half. It seems to cheer Corazon up, however, when they get on the Himalaya. They ride it together twice and there's a smile on his face that could probably light up a room.

" _That's my favorite ride._ " mouths Corazon, his smile fading into something a little wry, like he's remembering something. Doflamingo snickers and ruffles his twin's hair before his phone starts buzzing - he picks it up.

"Huh? Yeah? … Finally! Where's your bitch ass at? … All right, I'll see you." the conversation is brief, but he hangs up and pockets the phone and digs some money out. This is then shoved into Corazon's hands, "Here. I gotta go meet Diamante and Trebol now, so go run around with Croco-man."

" _Okay, thank you. Have fun, Doflamingo._ "

He's afforded a rare, fond sort of smile that Crocodile has never seen before. It looks odd and both out of place and character on him.

"Yeah. Don't do anything I wouldn't." he strides off, cackling, leaving Crocodile alone with Doflamingo's brother, who he hardly knows.

It makes Crocodile feel a little pissed off, honestly, that his best and only friend is traipsing off alone to meet other friends. Why couldn't he have come along, for one? Plus, its just fucking rude, not that Crocodile can claim to be the paragon of politeness himself.

" _Do you want to get a funnel cake?_ " he asks, breaking the other free from his irked reverie. Crocodile thinks that a funnel cake sounds absolutely fucking amazing. He nods, lets the other lead him to the stand, where Crocodile has to order, since Corazon still isn't talking. He's then led to a nearby picnic table, where they sit opposite one another. Crocodile finishes off his vodka and pepsi and casts the bottle aside.

" _What does that taste like, anyway?_ " Corazon asks, making Crocodile smirk because of the powdered sugar on his fingers as he signs.

"Like … nail polish remover. Burns a little."

" _That's weird, you're weird._ "

Crocodile shrugs and tears off a piece of the cake, "Does its job, I guess. Why are you so against it? Some kind of boyscout?"

Corazon shakes his head, chews a little on his lip in contemplation.

" _I don't like how it makes my brother act. I don't want it to make me or anyone else act that way, too._ "

Hm.

Crocodile considers how Doflamingo is when he's drunk, but he's … Actually a lot of fun. Certainly more bearable at some points. He searches. Doflamingo is sort of obnoxious, but there's nothing terribly wrong with that, is there?

There must be something Crocodile doesn't see.

He shrugs, licks the powdered sugar off his own fingers.

"Took you for a boyscout."

" _I've been called that before._ " he smiles again, and Crocodile finds that he has to look away from that smile for a moment. He pulls a Camel wide out of the pack in his pocket, offers one to Corazon out of politeness. He takes it with thanks, much to Crocodile's surprise.

For a moment, Crocodile thinks the other is just smoking to not appear a boyscout, but he doesn't cough like a beginner would. Huh.

They drop into conversation, then, talking mostly about previous field days memories. Crocodile tells him that they had stuff like this back home, sometimes, but it wasn't quite as cheap and small. Corazon tells him about the time he tripped and knocked someone into a ride barrier and got lemonade spilled all over himself.

The conversation flows easily for a while; probably due to Crocodile's imbibing.

Its somewhere long after the funnel cake is finished that a near-crowd of people come up to the table with greetings thrown towards Corazon. There's six of them, by Crocodile's count, a real mix.

The boy who sits closest to Corazon has quite a wicked grin on his face, nodding his head in greeting at Crocodile. Dark-skinned and with a little patch of fuzz on his chin, he looks slightly older than the rest of them. Crocodile doesn't recognize him, or the other four that sit on his side.

He slings an arm over Corazon's shoulders and bonks their heads together. They seem pretty close.

"Hey, you having fun?" asks the only girl in the crowd. She's pink haired and pretty; a classmate he recognizes, but again, one he can't put a name to.

"Yeah. Doflamingo took off so I've been talking to Crocodile here. Everyone, this is Crocodile."

Corazon speaks. He speaks and its delivered so casually and smooth that Crocodile wonders why he doesn't talk more often. Gentle tenor, no rasp or growl. He likes the way he says his name, rolling off his tongue with ease, as if they've been friends a while.

"This is Law, Hina, Smoker, Luffy, Ace, and Sabo."

He points to each of them in turn. Crocodile just nods, raises his hand in greeting. They all start to chatter to Corazon and Crocodile both ("You're that new Senior, right? Why the hell did you move at the end of the school year?"). Someone tells a joke and its met with bawdy laughter from Corazon.

The laugh is cute and Crocodile is nearly taken aback by both that and the admission of its cuteness in his own head. He doesn't do cute, doesn't think people are cute. But when he's slapping the table and going - "Yeah, yeah! He totally bought it down that hill, funniest thing I ever fucking saw!" - its hard to not think that. Contagious, he finds, even though he wasn't there to witness Ace allegedly wiping out down a hill on a boogie board last summer.

He laughs, too, because Corazon is laughing, and Corazon catches him doing it. Their eyes meet and, fuck. It must just be the alcohol making him feel like this. Yeah. That's it.

Part of him just doesn't care.

"Cora, fireworks are about to start. You gonna be okay?" Law asks. Corazon nods emphatically, smiling huge.

"Yeah, I feel good. I can handle it. Let's get going."

The group moves, finding a place on a hill with among the droves. Twilight has given way to night, painting the sky an inky indigo. Crocodile has to admit that the white lights all strung up against the dark actually looks quite nice. He finds his place next to Corazon, feeling sobered up.

The fireworks start shortly thereafter. Bright bursts of color and noises fill the air, lighting them up and awing the crowd. It feels a little juvenile, but it reminds Crocodile of being younger and going to fourth of July celebrations with his mother. Its nice reminiscence.

He wonders why Corazon would have an issue with fireworks; maybe he's noise sensitive? That would make sense.

The show continues for a while, ending with the grand finale in all of its brightloudbang glory. A hush falls over the crowd for a split second, catching them in the smoky aftermath of it all. Crocodile stands.

Corazon looks up at him and through the glow of the streetlights nearby he can make out a soft sort of smile on his face. He looks away again, for a moment, but offers his hand to help the other to his feet.

"I think I'm going to go to Ace's place with them. Do you want to come along?"

"What about Doflamingo?"

Corazon waves a hand, "They don't like him. He's fine with Trebol and Diamante, trust me."

He mulls it over for a second. Its not that late, its summer; he'd just be bored at home, anyway.

"Yeah, sure."


	2. Chances

this chapter includes coercive drug use; please take care!

* * *

There's a dog in the corner that keeps staring at Crocodile. He's a Schnauzer, which is a fact that Crocodile is surprised he knows. Everyone else is sitting around the living room, pointedly not noticing this dog giving him the stink eye, until someone does.

"Stefan is mean muggin' you, dude." Ace comments with a laugh. Crocodile shrugs, brings his beer bottle to his lips to drink. Some dark beer that tastes bitter and nice going down his throat.

"Must not like me."

"Stefan doesn't like anyone at first." says Corazon, "But I like you just fine, so you're okay."

A smirk at the admission pulls up the corners of Crocodile's lips. But he looks over at Corazon to notice Law in his periphery, giving him a bit of an odd look. Scrutinizing, almost. Neither of them avert their gazes for what seems like a couple long minutes, until Luffy pipes up and takes Crocodile's attention.

"Hey! Crocodile, can I call you Croco-taco? I thought of it just now."

The whole room laughs at that.

"No." he says adamantly. Luffy just snickers, shishishi.

"That's so gonna stick."

"No."

"Too late," says Sabo, who shakes their head and regards Luffy with a fond look.

"Nicknames mean you're in, probably, but there's still some hazing left." Smoker says flatly, and Crocodile can't tell if he's serious or not.

"In, huh."

"We're secretly a biker gang."

"Doesn't that mean he has to get jumped in … ?" Law asks, smirk in his words. The group then begins to discuss the jumping in of Crocodile ("As if he could lie there and take it, I mean, look at the guy."), which takes them into how no one else has been jumped in.

They're all right to hang out with, he thinks, tipping back more of his beer. Even if they're talking about beating him up.

After more beer, more conversation, the group begins to disperse, beginning with Law and Luffy. Law affords Corazon a kiss on the temple and a wave to everyone else, while Crocodile becomes sour at being called Croco-taco upon their departure.

Then Corazon nudges Crocodile, "Hey, d'you wanna get goin'? Doflamingo is texting me …"

Crocodile stares for a beat; he seems a little nervous, antsy, at the prospect of his brother texting him.

Why is that?

"Sure."

He doesn't ask, after they say their goodbyes, after they're on their way to the Donquixote house. They walk in silence for a couple blocks, Crocodile once again feeling warm from having sucked down a couple beers.

Corazon is carrying himself like he's fragile, arms wrapped around himself and eyes on the ground as he goes. The alcohol seems to make Crocodile care.

"Are you okay." it still comes out a little demanding, like it normally would. There's not much compassion here in his words, but he does feel at least a little for the other. Must be the booze, right?

Corazon's eyes go wide, looking at Crocodile like he's a deer looking down an eighteen wheeler.

"Huh?" he blinks, processes the words; he's not very convincing at all, "Oh, yeah. I'm fine."

"You look terrified. Why is that?"

"I'm not, I'm just … Thinking."

"Mmm."

His reasons and his reticence are his and his alone; Crocodile has no interest in pushing it. He's old enough to handle it, right? So he leaves it at that. They're silent on the rest of the walk home, feet tromping over loose gravel and skirting deep potholes. Its when Crocodile goes to say good bye to Corazon, parting at his driveway, that he starts to feel bad. The look on his face is pure anxiety, bordering on panic. What is it?

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I …" silence stretches a couple of awkward moments between them, and its too much quiet for Corazon to lie about it, "I'll be fine once I get home."

He smiles a weak smile and Crocodile doesn't feel convinced, really. But he doesn't want to push it.

"You, uh … Want my number, or something? In case … You're not okay."

The sentence is stumbling and staggering out of his mouth like a newborn deer, unsure on its hooves. Crocodile is not used to giving a shit about anyone besides himself. Corazon looks aside and pulls out his phone, letting Crocodile program his number into the device.

"Yeah, just. Text me or whatever."

"Thank you. I'll see you later, hopefully?" there's some real hope in his inflection, small sad smile spreading his lips in a pretty curve.

"Yeah, hopefully."

It feels like he's seeing a scared soldier off to war, or something.

He doesn't like it.

* * *

Doflamingo doesn't mind boredom; it gives him time to coalesce.

Its an idyllic day, warm breeze wafting in through the window, parents absent, music on the stereo. The little brother learned his lesson a couple nights ago, so he knows where he's at, at least. Stupid kid fucked off to his friends' place with Crocodile after the fireworks without asking Doflamingo. He was supposed to be in charge of the fucking punk, and there he goes with all the gall in the world and none of the common fucking decency.

Even thinking about it makes his blood boil again.

But its okay! Its okay. Kid got the fear of god put into him again, kid got put back in his place. All it took was a little intimidation, a little "you fucked up bad" through text, backing him up into a corner once the fear crawled up his spine and choked his heart. Its good, now.

The front door slams just as he's thinking of it, and a wide grin forms. Corazon is back.

He doesn't move, wants to see what he'll do; and so, he does hear the creak of the well-worn stairs. Corazon's fist comes gently on the open door. Doflamingo sits up on his elbows, lifting his shades a bit to catch the younger's eyes.

"Hey. Look at me." he does, and damn does it feel good to be able to do that, "I thought you were going to be out longer."

"I had an anxiety attack." Corazon signs, mouths. Doflamingo frowns; this happens sometimes. Angry as he still is with his dear little brother, he does care for him deeply. An idea presents itself, and Doflamingo rises from the bed and crosses the room to his dresser. The steps take a few seconds, but Corazon knows what's coming and it feels like minutes, feels like dread.

"Got something for you, then. Come here."

The trepidation makes Corazon's steps even more awkward than they usually are, but he manages to get there without completely eating shit. Doflamingo takes one of many pill bottles from his dresser drawer and examines them; the little round, yellow pills are plentiful. He shakes out three.

"What are those? I don't know if I can, Doffy …"

He shakes out two more.

"Do 'em. Quit being a fucking weak-ass little bitch, Rocinante."

"What are they?"

"Crazy seeds for your punk ass. Just take 'em."

Corazon looks fucking terrified - good, honestly - but he holds his hand out to accept them anyway. He doesn't shake too much, with them in his palm. He swallows them all after only a moment's hesitation.

"Good. You'll feel real nice once those hit, so go lay down. I'll check on you in a while."

Corazon nods quickly and goes to make his escape, shuffling out of the room. But before he can leave entirely, he's barked after.

"Hey."

The younger twin turns and stares, and he's visibly distressed. Eyebrows knit up and posture rigid; is it the anxiety from earlier, or is he still scared of Doflamingo … ? Maybe both.

"I love you, Roci. It'll be okay, all right?"

He just nods, turns tail, flees - just like that. Doflamingo settles himself back on the bed, satisfied. Its all for his own good; he should be happy.

* * *

Crocodile hasn't expected too much out of his summer days; sometimes that's all right, and sometimes its not. It just so happens that today is one of the days he prefers to have to himself. He has a tendency to isolate, either out of misanthropy or out of a simple need to just relax and decompress.

Maybe I should have turned my phone off, he considers once a certain text rolls in.

I'm coming over.

Is all it says, sent from Corazon's number. He recalls giving Corazon his number, out of some bizarre and out-of-character gesture to make sure he's okay.

It occurs to Crocodile that something might be wrong, given the circumstances under which he gave him his number, given that he's imposing instead of asking. Corazon isn't the type to impose at all. So Crocodile puts a hand over his face, sighing deep and then sending a text back that its all right.

Within a couple minutes there's a knock at his bedroom door.

His mother and Corazon are standing there. She has a bright smile on her face - he knows he'll be grilled about his interesting new friend, later - and Corazon looks like he might very well fall over.

What the fuck happened?

"You two have fun and let me know if you need anything."

"Th-thank you, ma'am."

Corazon then looks around the room and promptly walks over to the desk with a strange sort of careful step, one atypical of his jerking, quick, anxious sort of movements. He's overcompensating his steps for some reason.

"Are you high or something?" Crocodile sits up in his bed, crossing his legs and wondering if he's going to share.

"Doffy made me." comes his voice, quiet, "I didn't want to; had an anxiety attack, shouldn't'a told him."

"What do you mean, he made you?"

The concept is strange for a couple of reasons. Once again, what gives Doflamingo the authority? Did he force them down Corazon's throat, or something? Why would he do that, why would he be so insistent?

Corazon just stares for a minute, mouth opening and closing. He looks like a fish, turns his eyes down. Sort of pitiful. His shoulders come up in a shrug, and Crocodile genuinely feels bad.

"So you came over because … ?"

"I'm scared. He gave me a lot, and I can't … I just can't be around him."

"You managed to walk here just fine."

"Yeah. He said I haven't peaked yet." Corazon mumbles, voice getting weaker; he does sound distant, indeed, "If you don't want me here I can leave."

Crocodile pauses, sighs again, like a weary old man, "No, you don't have to leave. I feel a bit lost, is all - what do you need?"

"Dunno. Company. Reassurance. I feel a bit freaked out an' sleepy." he gestures widely, "Don't wanna die, I guess."

"You're not gonna die." Crocodile says it gently, quietly, trying to sympathize with the fear as much as he can, "I promise. You'd be in worse shape already."

Corazon rubs at his face and holds his hands there for a moment before nodding. His hands drop back to his side and he slumps back in the chair.

"Thank you, Crocodile." he does the fish thing again, tongue laden with thick words that trip out after a moment, "I'm sorry to have bothered you like this but …"

"But?" Crocodile pushes.

"I don't know. You're dependable, I think, so it wasn't really a choice." he rubs at his face again, wrings his hands together, like the motions remind himself that he's still there. That he's still conscious, still has most of his bearings.

Dependable … That's a new one.

Crocodile gets up and motions to the bed, "Lay down. You'll peak and probably nod a bit, but you're gonna be fine."

Corazon nods with his eyes trained on the floor and Crocodile thinks he looks submissive, vulnerable. He's like a foreign creature, some puzzle that Crocodile can't figure out. What's it like, being that way? So demure?

He feels a bit awkward while Corazon climbs into bed, grabs the spare pillow and holds it, rolls onto his side. But Corazon postures his head properly on the pillow he hugs onto, smiling sleepily up at Crocodile. He looks genuinely grateful, tired and weary, but … Crocodile can't find the word for the way he looks. He has to turn his gaze to the wall.

"Thank you, Crocodile." voice as gentle as his features, with a yawn. Crocodile shifts his weight, still feeling awkward and now heated, before he takes the quilt on the chest at the end of his bed into his arms.

"Yeah. I'll be back in a couple minutes."

"Mmkay." Corazon nuzzles into the pillow a little and, fuck, he really needs to get out of there. So he finds himself going to the laundry room and tossing the quilt into the dryer.

Its this old thing, made by his abuela, with holes in the patchwork. It was gifted to him on his tenth birthday and its seen many nights and days with him, many temper tantrums thrown under its comfort.

After ten minutes or so, its all warmed up, so he takes it back upstairs. Corazon is staring blankly at the wall, blinking all slowlike. Without ceremony, Crocodile takes the blanket and offers it to the other instead of spreading it over him.

"Oh! Wow, thank you." Corazon looks delighted over the warmed blanket, casting the fabric over himself and settling back down with his pillow. Crocodile sniffs and nods, goes to sit in the same chair that he'd occupied before.

"My abuela and mom used to do that for me when I was little." he finds himself saying, before he can stop; its weird for him, to divulge like that, but he keeps going, "I'd be out like a light."

Corazon laughs a little, and its still as nice as it was the other night, "I can't imagine you little."

"I was a weird little kid."

Another laugh, then a sigh and a hum. He's all smiles, and Crocodile knows he's calmed down by that virtue. His smile really is nice, lighting up his eyes. Its a dim light, though, dulled by the drugs; Crocodile finds himself wanting to see it bright.

God, he wishes Corazon would fall asleep so he wouldn't have to feel so weird.

"I know the feeling." and he yawns, yet again, "I think I'm gonna be out in like, thirty seconds."

"Go ahead." Crocodile waves a hand flippantly, turns in the chair to face the desk and his laptop, "I'll be here."

So he works, for a while, music low and slow in tandem with Corazon's soft snores. His mind ends up wandering some to what Doflamingo is up to; maybe the motherfucker is high, too. Jealousy feels hot in his stomach, but it dies down quickly enough. He finds that he can't write so much, waiting like this for Corazon to wake up or for Doflamingo to call.

He puts on Netflix instead, zoning out to some shitty thriller movie with two and a half stars, before Corazon is quite suddenly awake and propped up on his side. He rubs the dreams and the high out of his eyes and smiles again while looking around.

"How are you feeling?" Crocodile asks, and why the hell can't he shut up around him, its not like he cares how his friend's twin brother is doing, "You look better, at least."

"Still swimmy, but … Yeah, better." he sits up and stretches and once again Crocodile looks away, this time from the sliver of skin revealed in the stretch. Swimmy is a good word for a high like that, Crocodile finds.

"Whatcha watching?" he continues.

"Truth or Die." Crocodile shrugs and turns his gaze to the spot on the bed next to him, "Want to watch it with me? I don't mind starting over."

"Ah, sure." he's had this soft sort of smile on his pretty face since he woke up and it makes Crocodile wonder what's worth smiling over.

Crocodile settles himself on the bed, next to Corazon with the laptop occupying the space in front of them. He tends to prefer silence during movies, but as this one flows along, he doesn't mind Corazon's little comments, predictions, or questions. He gets the movie entirely wrong, of course, but he's too awestruck with the ending to care much.

"That was so good!"

Crocodile snorts, giving him a funny look, "You think so?"

"Yeah! I mean, it was pretty gory with the acid thing, but still pretty cool. The ending made me sad."

"You're funny."

Corazon turns his cheek, facing Crocodile, laying his head down on top of his knees. He blinks slow and that fucking smile is still there, and something turns over in his guts, twists them up and makes him feel warm.

This time Crocodile doesn't look away.

"I think you're funny too."

"I've been told the opposite." Crocodile murmurs, standing up off the bed. He grabs the ashtray and pack of smokes off his desk, offers Corazon one after he gets comfortable again. They light them and smoke for a little in silence.

"I don't get to smoke at home too much. Mostly when I'm with my friends. Its sort of weird you can even smoke in the house." Corazon gesticulates with the cigarette wedged between his fingers as he talks, "Everyone insists it would yellow the walls too much, so."

That puts some sort of veil over his eyes; its minute, but Crocodile catches it. A strange thing to get distance in your eyes for - but then again, Corazon is sort of strange, himself.

Crocodile, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, puts on some Stevie Ray Vaughan and sits back. Corazon's eyes are closed as he listens, and he refuses to watch him like some fucking creep. This whole situation is bizarre when he takes a step back to look at it, but getting back into it, thinking about it its … Pretty okay.

With Doflamingo he'd be tense and bickering, or high or drunk and bickering. Its good to have that when he actually wants it, when he doesn't feel like he needs to be sequestered away in his bedroom, asleep. Corazon makes him feel like he doesn't need to be entertaining.

They sit and they talk about the music for a little while; what they're into, what they don't like and what they'd seen live. Corazon talks about music that Crocodile has never heard of and Crocodile talks about classics, blues, indie. Corazon wiggles his fingers and taps away at the keyboard to put a song on.

Its choir music, which is weird, but its intense. It swells and flows and the man on the screen keeps time with a drum stick.

"This doesn't-"

"Shh, listen." Corazon touches a finger to his own lips. So he does. Even if its not entirely his thing, it is pretty nice.

They trade songs like this for a while, and Crocodile notices that Corazon gets happier, brighter, when he talks about music. Minutes melt away, and after maybe an hour or some Doflamingo is quite suddenly walking up the stairs and into the house.

"Well ain't this a shock. My brother and my best friend, all shacked up listening to …" he's grinning, leaning entirely too close to look at the computer screen, "Dem Atlas."

"I was taking a walk, but Crocodile found me." Corazon lies easily, "So we came back here."

"Surprised you managed to walk at all, Roci." he snickers, seating himself beside Crocodile.

"Did my mom let you in? I should tell her to turn your ugly ass away at the door from now on." Crocodile tells him, "All walking in like you fucking pay rent. Fuck outta here."

"As if you pay rent. Get a fucking job, you heathen."

"Says the spoiled fucking rich kid. Suck my dick, Doflamingo."

"Time and place, Croco-man."

Crocodile punches Doflamingo square in the arm - not hard or anything, the motion being strictly jocular - and he notes a small gasp from Corazon. He feels the younger twin shift away, shrink, and Doflamingo just returns the punch with the same force. They trade serious glances for just a second, then laughter.

"Hey, I got us some smokes. I wanna go down to the canals and smoke 'em, its too nice to be cooped up in this god damn dump."

"Fuck you and fuck your fucking house." Crocodile tugs on Doflamingo's ear, earning a swat, "What did you get?"

"Black and Milds. Wine, for your bitch ass - I got you one too, Roci. You can come with us if you want to."

Corazon pauses for a couple beats, contemplative, before he nods. Doflamingo then scoots off of the bed and hips his hands, "Come the fuck on, then."


	3. Brothers

this is long overdue! but i hope you like it. it introduces a new character who later becomes pretty important. there's more drug use (i think i'll stop warning for this) but that's about it. i hope you guys like!

* * *

Because Crocodile and Doflamingo can never be around one another sober, they swallow pills on the down low, washed down with cheap, flat soda. Corazon refuses politely both the pills and soda, lighting his cigarillo and walking behind the other two as they talk.

Once they're at the canals, they lean on the railing and smoke. It smells sweet, smells like summer out there. Corazon licks his lips and tastes the wine. The pair starts to bicker, and Corazon eventually tunes them out; its something about Crocodile's shitty taste in music.

He eventually turns himself around on the railing, looking away from the gazebo across the way and out onto the streets. Feeling languid and loose, still, and not thinking very much of anything, he finds that today is picking up a bit as his high ebbs away. He likes being with Crocodile, likes being with Doffy when he's being nice.

"Yo, can I bum a lighter off you?" comes a voice to his right; he was zoning out pretty hard, turns out. He turns his attention to the speaker, finding that its one of his classmates.

It's Bellamy, kid from his World History class in Junior year that always got away with doing stupid shit due to being a fantastic football and baseball player both. Ridiculous and teacher-distracting as he was, he was pretty funny. Corazon finds himself indifferent to him.

"What do I get for it?" Doflamingo asks, grin split wide, and Bellamy drops his gaze, looking around in his pockets. Crocodile and Doflamingo erupt into laughter, much to Bellamy's embarrassment.

"Jeez, you were actually gonna give me something?" he laughs, "You don't need to."

He offers the little white lighter to Bellamy, who takes it with a nod and lights his smoke. He looks sort of heated.

"Its Bellamy, right?" he continues. He nods, taking care to blow the smoke away from them.

"And you're Doflamingo, yeah?" Bellamy goes about talking like Crocodile and Corazon aren't even there, though he does glance at them nervously. He seems sort of nervous in general, now that Corazon gets a good look at him.

"Yeah. Fuck you doing out here alone?"

"I was heading back home from a friend's place." he jabs a thumb behind him, "I live on the other side of town, don't really feel like going home yet."

"You gonna chill with us?"

Bellamy looks from Doflamingo to the ground to Crocodile to Corazon and back again, all in quick succession, "If you want me to."

"Good answer, my man."

Bellamy turns out to be interesting after a while, once they lapse into telling stories about parties they've been to. He tells a tale of getting into a fight over the stupidest shit - apparently, he's been in quite a few of them.

But after they bicker, after they walk Bellamy home, after they get back to the cul-de-sac to part ways, Crocodile sinks back into bed and throws the covers over himself entirely. The high has worn off, by now, leaving only genuine mellowness in its place instead of the artificial sort.

He doesn't think much of anything while he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

Vivi is being insufferable.

She's ripped all the covers off of Crocodile, leaving him feeling bare and irritated at her insistence. However, his exhaustion supersedes the need to put her into a headlock and then into the closet.

"Come ooooon, let's take a walk. You've been cooped up in here for like, three days now."

"I am your second choice for hanging out and I won't fuck with that. No."

"No, what makes you think that?" she sits up a little more in her blanket cocoon, shooting the other a funny look. He returns it.

Scooting closer, Vivi wiggles her eyebrows and tells him, "We can go to Scoops. I can pay for your sundae. I can be as fun as Doffy."

Doffy has been at Trebol's for the past three days. And Corazon, well, who the hell knows what he's been up to? Its not like he and Crocodile are especially close or anything. Still, the idea of going to the ice cream place a few blocks away sounds nice. She's right; he has been cooped up in his room. The only company he's really had is a bottle of vodka and his writing.

"All right. But don't be a try hard, you don't need to be as loud as Doffy or anything."

"Really? We're going?"

"Yes, we're going."

Vivi sheds her cocoon as if she were a moth, and is suddenly up on her feet, grinning at Crocodile like he's made of sunshine. He looks away from that grin of hers, poisonous expression that it is, and opts to sit up to get his feet into his shoes. Vivi is up and out of her wrappings and up on her feet in an instant.

So off the pair goes, out of an empty house laden with scraped together bills and change. The ice cream place in question is more than a couple blocks away, but the trek isn't terrible. Silence hangs between them, but not in a heavy sort of way; the comfortable kind of way shared by two people who have known one another a long while.

"So, what kinds of things are you doing with Doffy these days?" she asks suddenly, hands clasped behind her back. She asks so conversationally, but the look on her face belies the ignorance implicit in the words.

Vivi knows damn well what they're up to.

"We took up knitting. What sort of shit are you getting up to with Kohza?"

"Funny you ask - we started a book club." she says wryly, smiling up at him. Its sort of funny to him, how she's always presenting herself like a girl scout when he knows for a fact she sneaks out to go party, sometimes.

"No, but honestly, I hope you're staying safe."

"Did you bring me out here to lecture me?" he sounds almost a bit too defensive, just a hair louder and more combative than normal. Reel yourself in, Crocodile. The prospect of some sort of intervention puts him on edge.

"No! Not at all," she says, hands up in surrender, "I'm just saying as your little sister."

Another funny look, though he relaxes, "… If you get preachy again you're going in the closet."

"I'll be good! You don't have to worry at all."

Soon thereafter they're pushing their way into Scoops, and Vivi slaps her hand on the counter, turning back to her brother.

"What do you want, big guy?"

He orders some sundae with peanut butter and tells them not to be shy with the whipped cream because, hey, Vivi said she'd pay. She gets a milkshake and the pair of them sit next to the window.

He points his spoon at her, hot fudge dripping, "Who would win in a fight, Kohza or Mr. Rogers?"

Crocodile, naturally, believes that Kohza would get his ass kicked in a fight against most people, while Vivi is of the opposite opinion. They bicker about this for a bit, even switching foes for a minute ("Ok, how many kindergarteners could he fight before succumbing to the hand of death?").

The bell over the door sounds and Crocodile doesn't bother to look up from his sundae before Vivi is peeking over his shoulder at the newcomers. She sits herself proper, shaking around the last dregs of milkshake.

"Wow …" she mumbles, eyes still trained over, "Pretty."

"What?" he turns to peek.

Ah, of course.

Corazon is walking up with his strange gait to the counter with Law close behind him. Crocodile returns to his sundae. She's right, of course; pretty is one of the more apt descriptors for Corazon. He licks off his spoon.

"That's Doflamingo's twin."

"Really? I never knew he had a brother, let alone a twin."

"Yeah."

Its after the pair orders that Corazon's voice comes to Crocodile's ears, "Hey, Croc, is that you?"

Crocodile swivels in his seat to regard them as they draw closer. Law's face carries that fucking smirk, still, but Corazon's smile is as bright as ever.

"Hi, Corazon. Law." he says, jabs a thumb, "This is my little sister, Vivi."

"Nice to meet you, Vivi. I didn't think I'd see you around much without Doffy, but its nice to."

"He still at Trebol's?"

"Yeah." he grins, sounding maybe a bit too pleased, "Its been me and Law at the house, but I think we're having a couple others over later if you want to come?"

"Oh. Yeah, maybe." he leaves out the part that he has nothing to do, will have nothing to do, "If I'm not busy."

"Just come over whenever you want, if you're not." Corazon says, "Do you mind if we sit with you?"

"Not at all!" Vivi chirps. Crocodile finds he doesn't mind much if Corazon sits with them, but Law might be a different story. He's not sure how he feels about him, but at least Corazon is close with him.

He considers just exactly he feels about Corazon, as he's taking a seat and Law is going to get their ice cream. Crocodile thinks he likes him some. He's got good taste in music and he's certainly not bad to look at or listen to. Besides that, he's good people; genuinely good, a stark contrast to his brother. Not that Doflamingo is bad ( okay, maybe he's an asshole and likes the drink a bit much ), its just that their personalities are startlingly different.

Crocodile wonders how that's come to pass.

He blinks a bit, not wanting to give too much thought to the origin of the Donquixote twins, their nature vs. nurture.

Thankfully, Corazon piping up again brings him out of his reverie. He starts chattering away about music, about how he checked out some of the bands that they had talked about the other day. The ones he didn't know. Crocodile can't claim the same, but the fact that Corazon could makes him smile a little. Normally, Doflamingo disregards a lot of the shit he suggests.

Crocodile briefly wonders why he's even friends with the older twin, but pushes the thought clear from his mind.

Crocodile and Corazon prove to be the main leaders of the conversation for a good twenty minutes, weaving and flowing through just as easily as they had before. He's a pretty good talker for someone who seemed so quiet and reticent when they first met.

Vivi has a look on her face that Crocodile doesn't quite like, though; come to think of it, so does Law.

"I think Smoker's out of work by now." Law says, and the look is quite suddenly gone from his face, though he shoots his gaze over to Crocodile but briefly.

"Ah, all right. Well, it was nice seeing you, Croc, and nice meeting you, Vivi. I'll see you later?"

"Yeah, maybe." Crocodile maintains his earlier stance, holding up a hand, "See you."

So they part, and when the siblings are left bereft of company, Vivi begins pushing Crocodile repeatedly, "That was possibly the gayest thing I've ever seen!"

"What? Shut up!" he growls, tugging some on her hair.

"Ow! Don't do that, Croc!"

The pair ends up getting warned by the manager behind the counter; such is the fervor of their play-fighting. Before they leave, though, Crocodile picks Vivi up and tosses her over his shoulder with nothing in the way of a warning, and continues out of Scoops with her kicking her feet. Her subsequent punch to his bicep doesn't even hurt. Crocodile knows that she can throw a proper punch, though; more play-fighting.

"Jerk."

"I'm sure you can come up with a better insult." he looks down at her, "Butthead."

As they walk, Vivi laughs, and Crocodile feels like this isn't actually a fate worse than death. The walk home is filled with chattering, and even when they get home, Crocodile doesn't return immediately to his room like he would have before.

"Do you want to watch something bad on Netflix?" she chirps, hopeful; and so he puts a frown on his face.

"Are you trying to get something out of me." he asks, and she frowns, too.

"I just want to spend time with my big brother." her hopeful tone turns into a sour one, and Crocodile sighs, long-suffering thing at only eighteen. Despite this sigh, this noise of exasperation, he trudges over to the couch and plops himself down on it.

"Well. As long as I can pick first."

The smile she gives off lights up the room.

Crocodile still wonders what her angle is.

What she's after.

Still, something stays him.

* * *

There's a knock at the door, once dusk has settled sure and stormy across the sky.

Its been some time now, off-and-on silence with debates and conversation threaded through it. Corazon, Smoker, Hina, and Law all spread out across the living room glance in the general direction of the door, gazes pulled from their phones or gameboys.

"I'll get it." Corazon says, and he's up on his feet; it might be Crocodile. He finds himself hoping that it is, a small shred of it lit up in his chest. There's just a bit of curiosity there about the stern boy who took care of him the other day. And with that curiosity comes gratitude and therefore a need to make up that care to him.

He opens the door, and his suspicions are confirmed; Crocodile looks incredibly bored and sleepy, smelling like smoke.

"Hey. Should I have texted first, or something?" he asks, like it just occurred to him to do so.

"Oh. No, its okay, come on in." Corazon says all brightlike, and shuffles back a bit with his strange gait. Crocodile kicks off his shoes as he's been told to do in the Donquixote house, and then follows Corazon back through the living room.

"We're not really up to much." he sounds incredibly sheepish at the sudden realization, "But … I dunno, I kinda wanted to play some Final Fantasy and trade off, if anyone else wants to. Have you before?"

"Which one? I'm not too big on most RPGs." Crocodile settles on the couch at the very end; Hina is at the other, and she raises her hand in greeting. Law affords him a smirk and Smoker, a nod.

"Ten!"

"Nah." is all he says. Smoker coughs and volunteers for the first go, and so the system is booted up.

"Oh. Its really good but kinda sad and confusing at the end."

"Isn't that most JRPGs?"

"I think so, yeah."

"What kind of games do you play?" Law asks, and the smirk touches his very words and Crocodile thinks he might like to slap it out of him.

"First person shooters. Platformers."

Law cups his hands around his mouth, "COD trash confirmed!"

"Fuck off."

"Law …" Corazon murmurs, sounding a little disappointed, a little pleading. Law snickers and holds up a hand in something like surrender, like he's saying he'll play nice. Were it not for the joint Crocodile smoked before coming over mellowing out his fire, he probably would've gotten up and picked a fight; he's picked fights back in the city for a lot less.

He doesn't apologize, though, but instead Smoker begins to talk with Crocodile about the games he likes to play — "Have you played Fallout 3? That's my favorite."

Corazon thanks God for Smoker and settles next to Crocodile on the couch. Not too close, but Crocodile shifts a little in his seat anyway.

"A little. Never finished, though."

"Do yourself a favor and get through it. How do you feel about Oblivion or Skyrim?"

"Skyrim is pretty good. Again, I didn't finish. Not much of a gamer."

"Well then what do you do?" Smoker asks, as if he can't comprehend it. Corazon snickers.

"I drink and I write and watch Netflix." He brings his shoulders up in a shrug, "Been partying some recently, so I don't get to any of that as much as I used to."

Law opens his mouth like he wants to say something, but closes it and shakes his head. Corazon tips his chin down, grateful that he bit his tongue, but nervousness courses through him and he bites at his nails.

"I see." Smoker says, then gets pissed off about an enemy on screen, "Fuck, I fucking. Hate these things."

"You're not even at the hard parts yet." Hina comments.

"They gross me out, Hina."

"Would you rather fight one of those things or fight Seymour though?" Asks Corazon. Crocodile just listens, watches; its a little interesting to see Corazon in his element again. A big change from how he is with Doffy.

"Like, in real life?" Smoker asks, making Corazon laugh loudly.

"Yeah, sure."

"Seymour, hands down. He's got black magic on his side, but I have the rage factor and I have a locker to push his ass into."

Corazon laughs even louder, and its such a contagious sound that Crocodile has to do so himself, though its low and filtered through a smirk, through reticence at the new, unfamiliar company.

"Crocodile, who would you rather fight? Fifty of these slimy little assholes or ten Doflamingos?" Smoker gestures to the bug-looking creature on screen, to which Crocodile snorts.

"Oh, god, those things. Can you imagine ten Doflamingos?"

"Is there enough alcohol in the entire county for that?"

Corazon chuckles weakly and hunches his shoulders and Crocodile knows he fucked up with that, some. He feels the tiniest twinge of guilt in his gut at making his host and new friend feel a little awkward, but it doesn't stay with him.

Still, he doesn't keep on.

"There's hardly enough for me, honestly, but. Y'know what game I'd play the shit out of right now, though? Spyro."

"Spyro is my shit!" Corazon gets all excited and he even claps his hands a little, "I used to play it a lot with Doffy. He was always better than me, but I knew the first Crash Bandicoot like the back of my hand."

"I'd play it with my mom when it was just me and her. She got pretty good, actually. I'd come home from school to her working on our shared file." His voice takes on some audible fondness; its not something that affects his tone very often, so the difference is noticeable.

"Any shared file Doffy and I had, he'd just finish himself." Corazon shrugs; there's a small smile on his face, and he looks at Crocodile until Smoker speaks, by just a beat or two.

"This is why I consider myself a lone wolf."

Law laughs at Smoker's statement, "You're stuck up Hina's ass, my guy."

"Not when we play games. He's right, really." Hina tells them. Crocodile snorts; he finds their dynamic, as a group, sort of adorable and endearing. Its apparent that they're tight knit. Smoker's funny, at least, with his deadpan delivery.

Its then that Corazon leans in a little closer to Crocodile, voice low, "Do you, uh. Want a beer, or anything? I know we don't do anything like that, um, but I know you do, so …"

Crocodile blinks at Corazon, and he recalls exactly what the other said, the night of the fireworks.

"I don't like how it makes my brother act. I don't want it to make me or anyone else act that way, too."

He finds it strange, that Corazon would offer alcohol, then, but he's not about to say no.

"Sure, I guess."

Corazon then gets to his feet and shuffles off, nearly wiping out into the wall. He rights himself and keeps going into the kitchen, then unseen by Crocodile.

"Easy, fumbles." Smoker calls out, keeping his eyes trained on the screen. Fumbles returns just a few moments later with a Corona; there's a lime in it and everything. Crocodile takes it with thanks and drinks from it.

The evening goes on at a steady pace; Crocodile shows enough tact to keep it at a couple beers, spacing them apart appropriately so as to not seem so ready to fall into excess. He even plays a little bit of the game they're trading off, and he doesn't do too bad at blitzball.

The rest of them know, already, Crocodile's penchant for excess, but he'd still like to maintain the opposite. He doesn't get buzzed, or anything, and he starts to come down from the high. As the clock wears on, creeping up towards midnight, he figures its time for him to go home, anyway.

He can try to get out some ideas and pass out and see what Doflamingo is doing the next day.

"I think I'm gonna take off. I'm sure you'd rather zip up your sleeping bags together and tell scary stories, or whatever it is that you do." Crocodile rubs at his face sleepily. Corazon laughs, doesn't seem to take offense to the quip.

"Okay, Crocodile. I hope you had fun." Corazon says, practically beaming, and Crocodile blinks.

"Yeah. You can text me if you want." he says, before he can really stop himself, and he gets up to his feet. Corazon follows him to the door, where he puts his shoes on.

"Yeah, I will. You should come over again, if you're feeling up to it."

"Sure, I can do that." Crocodile says after a moment, nods, thinks its genuine.

"Okay! Take care."

"Yeah."

And then he's out the door and into the night, down the sidewalk without so much as a glance backwards. The house is still when he lets himself in (door unlocked, not like in the city; the safety of the suburbs have made his mom bold), almost eerily so. He kicks his shoes off there, too, and then hovers in front of the fridge, contemplative.

Shower beers seems like a good idea, then.

He takes a six pack and retreats up to his room, finding himself in that private, comfortable sort of excess that he abstained from just minutes earlier.

It feels good, feels warm.

Sleep takes him some time around four.


End file.
